


31 Days of Halloween!

by miss_grey



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Gen, Halloween, M/M, Spooky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 7,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26749600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_grey/pseuds/miss_grey
Summary: Welcome to my 31 days of Halloween BoB fic challenge.  Each day from Oct 1-31 I will be posting a spooky/Halloween & fall related ficlet.
Relationships: Babe Heffron/Eugene Roe, Carwood Lipton/Ronald Speirs, Eugene Roe & Ralph Spina, Lewis Nixon/Richard Winters
Comments: 58
Kudos: 61





	1. Gene, Spina, and a Touch of Necromancy

“And this is why you shouldn’t screw with the laws of nature!” Gene shouted angrily, brows furrowed in concentration as he levered all of his weight back against the door next to Spina, whose hair was askew and who’d sweated through his t-shirt. The door and wall thumped again, the eerie chorus of hollow moaning and scratching nearly drowning out their panicked breathing. 

The door thumped under Spina’s back, the knob rattling, and he couldn’t help agreeing with Gene. If only he’d known, before….

_ 2 Hours Earlier _

“Damnit,” Ralph groaned, bending over the dead plant in the windowsill, “Emma’s gonna kill me.” Ralph reached out and touched one of the trailing leaves, which crumbled under the slight pressure and fell to the sill. “Oh, yeah, I’m a dead man.”

Emma, his beloved girlfriend of six months, had been out of town for the last two weeks on a work trip. After kissing him very thoroughly, she’d asked him for only two things: to call her every night when he got home from his shift at the hospital, and to water her plant, which had been a gift from her grandmother. 

He’d promised, of course, thinking  _ how hard could it be to water a plant? Only gotta keep it alive for two weeks.  _ It was, apparently, harder than he’d thought, since he’d forgotten to do it the whole time. To be fair, he and Gene, his roommate, were both super busy with nursing school and work at the hospital and basically... between food and sleep and work and calling Emma, the plant had fallen low on his priority list. Like...off the bottom of it.

And now it was dead. And Ralph was gonna be, too.

“Shit, there’s gotta be something I can do.” Ralph muttered, rushing to his room to pull out his laptop. “I’m sure people forget to water their plants all the time. There’s gotta be a fix.”

What he’d gotten were a bunch of hipster blogs that talked about urban gardening and advised you not to forget to water your plants. Ralph groaned, feeling increasingly desperate. Emma was due back in two days, and she’d know if he tried to pass off another plant as hers. He had to fix this. There was no other choice.

As if the gods had heard him, he scrolled to a blog that promised “instant results.” It looked a bit sketchy, with lots of Latin and strange symbols, but aside from rolling his eyes at the drama, Ralph mostly just hoped that the tiny spell at the bottom of the page worked. 

Now, he’d never attempted any kind of witchcraft before, but he was desperate, alright? So, about an hour before Gene was due home from work, Spina stood over the plant in their apartment, muttered a few stanzas of rhyming Latin, and hoped for the best. As the last word left his lips, he felt a strange tingle go up his spine and the curtains fluttered with a sudden breeze. The plant, however, remained dead. “Well, fuck.” Spina muttered before heading back to his room to concoct plan B.

A half hour later, when he emerged for a snack, his attention was caught by the beautiful, green,  _ living  _ leaves of Emma’s plant. He was so stunned that he dropped his phone and rushed over to inspect. It was true, it was real. Where, thirty minutes ago, there had been a dead plant, now stood a vibrant one. “Oh, hell yeah,” Ralph cheered. “Thank you pagan plant blog!”

In the life of Ralph Spina, things had been good.

_ Twenty minutes ago…. _

“Spina, let me in! Hurry, quick, open the door, I dropped my keys!” Gene called, breathless from outside their apartment. Stuffed full of cookies and feeling pretty good about himself, Spina rolled his eyes as he heaved himself to his feet and meandered over to the door. 

“Chill out, Gene, I’m comin’. Geez,” he muttered as he unlocked their door.

His roommate dashed in, harried and paler than usual, and he slammed the door shut behind himself, slamming home the two deadbolts and security chain. “Chairs. We need chairs. And uh...the table. That too.”

“What the hell are ya talkin’ about, Gene?” Ralph asked, wide-eyed and confused as his (normally rather serene) roommate searched their apartment with frantic eyes.

“I...I don’t know what’s goin’ on, Spina, but...somethin’s wrong. Very wrong.” Gene reached for the first chair and pressed it against the door. Shaking his head, he reached for a second.

“Gene, man...what the hell? Seriously.”

Gene stopped, then, and stared at Spina, his large dark eyes haunted. “There’s….” He shook his head. “I know it sounds crazy but...there’s zombies out there, Spina.”

Ralph snorted. “Nice one. You really had me for a minute there.”

“I’m not joking!” Gene snapped. “A crowd of ‘em found me on my way home from the hospital. Nearly bit me. I had to run, but they got my jacket.” And yeah, now that Gene mentioned it, his friend wasn’t wearing his favorite jacket. “‘S when I dropped my keys. Now help me barricade the door, Spina. They looked like they were headed this way.”

Still dumbfounded, Spina stood there and asked “Why would they--oh. Oh, no.”

Gene froze, eyes fixing on Ralph once more. “Oh, no? What do you mean, oh, no? What’d you do, Spina?”

Well, Ralph figured, on the wrong end of an accidental zombie apocalypse, he should probably explain.

_ Now…. _

“And this is why you shouldn’t mess with the laws of nature!” Gene shouted, as the zombies thumped heavily against the door. “Shit,” he hissed, as the door rattled in its frame. How much weight could it hold back? How long could they hold them off? Below their apartment window, the street was packed with moaning, swaying figures, their dead eyes fixed on the third floor apartment.

“Maybe it’s temporary!” Ralph hissed. “Maybe it’ll only last the night or something?” His sweaty hands slipped against the door next to Gene’s.

His friend turned to look at him, throat bobbing, as he braced himself grimly against the single piece of wood that stood between them and hordes of the undead. “I hope so.”


	2. Muck, Malarkey, Penkala & a Corn Maze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mortar squad versus a corn maze.

“We’re never making it out of here alive!” Penkala wailed before he threw his arms up and promptly allowed himself to sink to the ground. The endless maze of corn, golden and waving, swallowed his pronouncement. 

Malarkey rolled his eyes as Skip smirked down at him. “Not with that attitude, Penk.” He shaded his eyes and looked around--his view was cut off entirely. The corn stalks swayed about a foot higher than his head. 

“Much as I hate to say it,” Malarkey sighed, “he’s got a point. We’ve been in here forever.”

“Not forever,” Skip countered, pulling out his phone. “Just...an hour and 45 minutes.”

“I’m hungry.” Penkala huffed from where he sprawled in the middle of the dirt path. “And we ran out of water twenty minutes ago.”

“We can’t be too far away from help.” Malarkey mused. “The corn maze didn’t  _ look  _ that big.”

“It’s endless,” Penkala intoned. “We’ve been sucked into some sort of alternate dimension. There is no exit anymore. Just circles and circles and circles.”

Skip snorted. “Sorry. He got ahold of my Netflix password and watched  _ In the Tall Grass _ , even though I  _ warned him  _ not to.”

“I thought it’d be festive.” Penkala pouted. “Not a prediction.”

“We just need to get a good look around.” Skip said, turning in place.

“Look,” Penkala raised a finger to the sky. Above, a lone buzzard circled, a dark shadow against the otherwise cheery blue. “It’s just waiting. What’d I tell you?”

“Oh my God,” Malarkey huffed, nudging Penkala with his foot. “Would you shut up, Penk? We’re not gonna die in here. Skip’s right. We just need to get a look around.” Suddenly, his eyes brightened. “Hey, Skip, what if I lifted you up? Think that’d work?”

“Can you hold me?”

“Yeah, sure. You can climb onto my shoulders or something.”

Skip smirked. “Someone’s feeling confident.” He gazed down at Penkala. “I’ve got a better idea. Penk, come help Mal hold me up. We’ll do this like a cheerleader pyramid. You two boost me up, I take a look around, we get the hell out. Whaddaya say?”

Penkala sighed, but levered himself up. “Beats being bird food.” 

Together, Penkala and Malarkey braced themselves and lifted Skip up as high as they could go. “What do you see?” Malarkey asked.

“Well, I’ve got good news and bad news, boys. Which do you want first?”

“Ugh, give us some good news.” Penkala groaned.

“The good news is I can see the farm house. It’s not too far away.”

“That’s great!” Malarkey grinned. “So what’s the bad news?”

“I still can’t see a way out of here.”

“I’ve got an idea.” Penkala grinned, letting his hands unfold so that Skip slid back down to the ground. “Which way was the farm house?”

“Straight ahead. That a way.” Skip motioned with his chin.

“Great.” Penkala walked over to the edge of the corn, plucked an ear from the stalk, and said, again, “I’m hungry.” He peeled the husk back and took a huge bite of the yellow kernels, a grin on his face. It quickly faded, however, and he frowned down at the corn. “It’s a bit bitter.”

Skip rolled his eyes. “You’re supposed to cook it first, genius.”

“Whatever.” Penkala took another bite. “Let’s go.” And then, without waiting for any further commentary, he began to push his way straight through the middle of the corn, headed in the direction of the farm house.

“Shit, where’s he going?” Malarkey yelped.

“I’m headed for freedom, boys!” Penkala called from somewhere in the corn. “Can’t get any more lost than we already are!”

Skip and Malarkey shared a concerned look with one another. “We’re going to regret this, aren’t we?” Malarkey asked.

“Oh, yeah.” Skip grinned, before he grabbed a hold of his friend and tugged him after Penkala.

  
  



	3. Speirton and the demon kitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demonic kitten. Enough said.

“Feed me,” the high-pitched, hissing voice commanded. “Feed me, minions.”

“What the hell was that?” Lip asked, peeking into their kitchen. Their new kitten perched on a stool, staring at them imperiously. It curled its lip, swished its tail, and intoned once more:

“Feed me.”

“Oh god,” Lip hissed, jerking back around the corner and out of the kitten’s sight. “It’s possessed or something. A demon cat.” 

Ron continued to stare in the doorway, arms folded and head cocked consideringly. “I like it,” he decided, after a moment. “It’s cute.”


	4. Shifty/Talbert and "I'm so embarrassed"

“I’m so embarrassed” Shifty muttered with a blush as Tab helped chain him up in the basement. His boyfriend had just learned the secret of him being a werewolf. Shifty had expected it to be the end of their relationship, but Tab had taken to the revelation remarkably well.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Tab said, running his fingers lightly over Shifty’s skin and the metal cuffs. “I’m glad I can be here to help you.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips against Shifty’s. “They’re not too tight, are they?”

Shifty flexed and gave a slight tug against his restraints. “Nope. Feels about right.”

“Good.” Another soft brush of lips. “I’ll be waiting for you when this is over.”

Shifty’s blush deepened, and he murmured “Thank you.” But he could feel the pull of the rising moon, could feel his blood begin to rage. “You should go now. It’s starting.”


	5. Winnix, Baberoe, and Speirton plus a Haunted House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some of our couples enjoying a haunted house ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today you get a special double feature since I wasn't able to update yesterday. Enjoy ;)

The weekend before Halloween, some of the boys decide to go to their town’s most popular fall attraction: the epic, maze-like haunted house.

Winnix: 

As they make their way through the twisting hallways, Nix enjoys huddling close to Dick. To an outside observer, it appears as though Nix is scared and taking comfort in his boyfriend. However, Nix is playing his own game. As they make their way through the house, the keeps up a running commentary of suggestive murmurs, things like “I could make you scream like that tonight, given the right incentive,” and “I’d like you to push me up against the wall  _ just like that _ ,” and “oooh...that’s an interesting set of handcuffs...maybe we should get some.” Dick is blushing the whole time, thankful for the darkness and hoping to God that the actors don’t realize what is really going on. 

Baberoe: 

Gene is very calm and steady and he holds Babe’s hand, telling him there’s nothing to be afraid of, even as they walk through terrifying rooms filled with actors in all manner of masks and bloody costumes. He’s completely unruffled until, as they are crossing a makeshift bridge over a fake river, an actor pops up out of nowhere and reaches for them. Gene loses it. He panics and before he can think clearly, he’s shouting at Babe to run! Because Gene panics, so does Babe. Babe runs as fast as he can and trips on his way out of the house, going sprawling on the ground. By the time Gene catches up to him, he’s laughing so hard he’s tearing up and wheezing. He apologizes to Babe and helps tug him up off the ground. “Sorry I panicked,” he’ll say, “but it came outta nowhere and I thought it was gonna grab you.” And Babe will blush, embarrassed, and mutter “Sorry I ran away and left you.” But Gene will just laugh again at how silly they both were. 

Speirton:

Lip enjoys getting spooked and he’s having a good time, remarking on how interesting it is that the actors never really get too close or crowd into his space like they do in some haunted houses. What he doesn’t realize is that Ron is staring down the actors with his murder look, warning them to keep their distance, and they are straight up terrified of him. By the time they reach the exit, one of the employees is outside waiting for them, asking Ron if he’s ever considered doing this kind of work, because they’d be willing to take him on for the rest of the season.

  
  



	6. Luz, Baberoe, and a Discussion About Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A discussion which can take place either within or separate from my AU "What We Do in the Dark."
> 
> For my wonderful readers lysel and fromcrossroadstoking.

“We have to ask ourselves: what are magic’s limitations?” Luz mused, fingers drumming on the bartop. “Like...can it unburn my chicken nuggets?” He poked at one of the browned pieces of chicken that sat on his plate, courtesy of a distracted Muck. “Can it refill my beer?” He took a swig to prove a point. “What, exactly, are we talking about here?”

Behind the counter, Babe snorted, shaking his head. “Magic’s not like that.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, then, please enlighten me. You  _ do  _ have more experience than the rest of us, after all, seein’ as how you’re bangin’ a witch.”

“Hey!” Babe huffed, poking a finger in Luz’s direction. “You watch your mouth, buddy. I ain’t got a problem throwin’ you outta here ass first, got it?” 

Luz simply smirked, pleased at having ruffled the redhead. “Seriously. Explain.”

Babe shrugged. “Well...the way Gene explains it, he says the power to do magic is a responsibility. He says you shouldn’t mess around with it or use it for things you don’t need.”

“What if I  _ need  _ my beer refilled?”

“Then I’d tell ya to pony up the money for it or get behind the counter and work it off.”

“Seriously? No magic? No ‘poof, problem fixed?’ What’s the good of dating a witch if he can’t do shit like that for you?”

Babe blushed. “That ain’t why I like Gene, alright?”

“Right. He is all  _ tall, dark, and handsome  _ in that broody kinda way. Swamp witch or no, I guess that’s appealing.”

“Well yeah,” Babe shrugged. “But he’s also a really good guy, ya know. I don’t need him to do magic for me.”

Luz rolled his eyes. “God, you two are just sickly sweet and I’m sayin’ that when the other guy ain’t even in the room.”

Babe snorted again. “You don’t have the balls to say it when he  _ is  _ in the room.”

Luz chuckled, raising his beer. “Hell no, guy’s a witch. Probably turn me into a frog or somethin’.” 


	7. Lip, Speirton, and some Halloween Decorations

Halloween was Lip’s favorite holiday of the year. Most people assumed it was Christmas, because of the sweaters and hot chocolate and presents and good cheer and all of that. And yeah, Lip loved it, of course...but it wasn’t his favorite. There was something different about Halloween. About the perfect golden light when the sun slanted just right through the tree branches and the wind rattled the red, yellow, orange leaves, and the air was  _ just  _ the right kind of crisp in his lungs when he sipped his coffee on the porch. He adored the slight chill he’d get up his spine when he saw something spooky, and his heart swelled with fun and joy when the kids, dressed in their best costumes, trooped up to the house and rang the bell for candy.

Lip was the kind of guy who took a lot of pride in his house and who blushed, but preened, when his neighbors complimented him on his decorations: his wreath and lights for Christmas, his flag and flowers for the Fourth of July, and, of course, his decorations for Halloween. It was because of this dedication and love of the holiday that Lip was focused on his home and didn’t notice his new neighbor watching him from across the street.

Lip kept his cup of warm coffee on the little round table next to his rocking chair on the porch while we went about his decorating, stealing small sips in between and enjoying the warmth as he wrapped his fingers around the mug. It was only the first week of October, so Lip set out some of the pumpkins he’d grown in his backyard, uncarved until closer to the holiday to preserve them. They were a myriad collection of shapes: some tall and oblong, some short and squat, some perfectly round. Each had a distinct personality and would make for a great, unique jack o’lantern when the time came. 

He hung up a wreath with mini pumpkins and fall leaves on his door, framed on both sides by tall skeletons who were waving hello. Above them, cheery black bats perched to greet visitors. 

Lip strung fake spiderwebbing along the eaves of his porch and down the wooden columns, adding a couple fake spiders here and there: just enough to cause him to glance twice and make the neighborhood kids squeal if they came too close. 

He hummed to himself as he tied corn stalks to the porch columns in front and planted eerie solar lights along the path leading from the road to his front door. In the front yard, small statues of witches, ghouls, and goblins pranced around a large black cauldron. 

All in all, it looked pretty good and Lip knew he’d continue to add touches to it as the month progressed.

Satisfied with his morning’s work, he grabbed his cup of coffee and retreated back into the house to check on the pie he’d had baking. He’d just pulled it out of the oven when he heard a knock on his front door. Smiling bemusedly because he wasn’t expecting company, Lip set the pie on the rack to cool and went to see who it was.

On the other side of the door stood a tall, lean, and very handsome man with intense eyes and a playful smile. “Hello,” Lip said as he pulled open the door, “how can I help you?”

The man held out his hand. “I’m Ron Speirs, your new neighbor,” he motioned back toward his house, “I just moved in a couple days ago and I wanted to introduce myself and say how much I appreciate your decorations.”

“Oh,” Lip blushed and took the man’s hand: his shake was firm but not overbearing, his hands strong but callused like he worked with them often. “Thank you. I’m Carwood Lipton, welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Thanks.” Ron smiled and (reluctantly?) dropped Lip’s hand. He gazed around at the decorations. “In my last neighborhood, no one really got into stuff like this, so it’s a nice change. I can tell you enjoy it.”

“Yeah,” Lip said, still fighting off the blush, “Halloween’s my favorite holiday.” He cleared his throat then summoned his manners. “Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee? I’ve just pulled a pumpkin pie from the oven and we could have a slice?”

Ron’s smile tugged up and his eyes sparkled beautifully. “That sounds fantastic, Carwood. I’d love to.”


	8. Malarkey/Lt. Jones & Escape from a kidnapper

“Give me your hand, you’re going to fall over,” Jones said, reaching for the redhead, who was obviously beyond exhausted. They’d been running for hours, it seemed, and now their feet dragged and the forest was pitch-black, and they both wondered, silently, whether they’d live to see the sun rise. 

“Thanks,” Malarkey muttered, grasping the other man’s hand so he could tug him along. He didn’t know the man, and yet, here they were, thrown together by fate and the psychopath who’d kidnapped them both and locked them in a basement in a house in the middle of nowhere. Somehow, they’d managed to escape during one of the rare moments their masked captor had left them. But they didn’t know where they were or how far they were from civilization, and they dared not stop. They had no idea how the crazed kidnapper had found them, and they didn’t know whether he’d be able to do it again. All they knew was that they’d barely made it out of that basement, and Malarkey could still hear the echo of a distant chainsaw and shrieking if he allowed his mind to wander.

“We’ve got to keep going,” Jones urged, tugging Malarkey along. Jones still had some energy left--he hadn’t been in that basement as long as Malarkey had. Was it a day? Two? Three? He had no idea. All he knew was that the last person who’d been thrown in with him hadn’t made it out of there. “Come on.”

Malarkey allowed himself to be tugged along, grateful for the other man’s strength, grateful that someone could still think straight. As he followed along in a daze, Malarkey sent up a prayer that the sun would rise soon, that Jones kept his strong grip on Malarkey’s hand, that they both made it out of this alive. 


	9. Bill, Babe, and Some Monsters Under the Bed

“Come on, Babe,” Bill huffed, “you’ve gotta leave the house sometime, alright? I know you’re feelin’ down ever since Doris broke it off with ya, but you can’t stay cooped up forever. Besides, it’s Halloween! It’s the perfect time to go out and meet some new people.”

“I told ya, I don’t feel like it this year,” Babe whined into the phone.

“Which is exactly why I’m intervenin’. This is your favorite time of year and you ‘ _ don’t feel like it _ ’? No way. You gotta spend time with people right now, Babe.”

Babe plucked at a bit of fuzz on his blanket from where he’d sprawled lethargically on his bed. “I’ll just be chilling with the monsters under my bed.”

Babe could practically  _ feel  _ Bill roll his eyes over the phone. “Really, Babe? You know what? I almost wish there  _ was  _ a monster under your bed. Might motivate ya.” They were silent for a few moments, only the sound of their breathing passing between them. Finally, Bill growled and said “You know what? You’ve got ten minutes and then I’m gonna drag your ass out of your room and force you to have fun.” Before Babe could retort, the line went dead.

“Goddamnit,” Babe huffed, allowing the phone and his arm to flop back to the bed. “Well, guess it’s just you and me, monsters...for ten minutes, at least.” Babe sighed, closing his eyes, resigning himself to the idea of Bill barging into his room and dragging him to a party still dressed in his pajamas.

Suddenly, Babe heard a scratching sound come from under his bed and his eyes popped open. He froze, sure he’d imagined it. But no...the sound of scratching came again. “Oh, hell no,” Babe said, leaping from the bed and racing toward the door. “Bill, I changed my mind!” He called, hoping his friend had exaggerated the time it’d take him to get to Babe’s house. “I’m comin’ with you!”


	10. Winnix & Not Human

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out to be angstier than I intended....

“I just found out my best friend and love of my life isn’t human and you’re criticizing me for being shocked?!” Nix yelled before downing a shot of whiskey. 

“Well...yeah,” Harry frowned, taking a drink of his own. “It’s not exactly hard to figure out that there’s something a bit different about Dick.”

“I just...I thought….” Nix swore, taking another gulp of Harry’s whiskey--it wasn’t the kind he preferred, but it was alcohol and right now that was enough. “Hell, I don’t know what I thought, but it wasn’t this.”

“Look...I think you should talk to him. Get this out of your system.”

Nix shook his head. He knew Harry was probably right but...he wasn’t ready for that yet. Not yet.

* * *

After the years of drinking, Nix thought he was done with hangovers, but apparently emotional shock and exhaustion could do what the alcohol no longer could. He felt worn out: his body was achy and tired, his eyes were gritty from the tears, and his head pounded with a headache that perched just behind his eyes. Which was why, when he woke to the sound of knocking, he had to practically drag his body out of bed.

He didn’t bother brushing his teeth or combing his hair or even changing his clothes. He dragged himself to the door and opened it without even looking first--he already knew who it’d be. 

Dick stood on the porch, copper hair bright as a new penny in the early morning sunlight, his blue eyes captivating and as ethereal as always, his posture perfect with his hands folded behind his back. His face was set, resolute, and Nix recognized that expression, knew that Dick was gearing up for a fight and that the man had no intention of leaving until he won.

“Nix.” Dick greeted. “Can I come in?”

“Why not?” Nix asked, backing away from the door with a shrug, “You have a million times before.” He retreated back into the darkness of his home, feeling unsteady.

Dick shut the door behind him, plunging them both into blessed shadows. “We need to talk.”

Nix snorted and wished he had a drink. “Not much to talk about, is there, Dick? I mean...what do you say when you realize that your best friend has been lying to you for years?”

“I never lied,” Dick insisted. “I just…didn’t tell you everything.” The turn of his lips was sheepish, a rare sight on the usually confident redhead.

“Like how you’re one of the Fae?” Nix barked. He followed the words with a desperate, hollow chuckle. “Don’t you think that’s some pretty important information to keep to yourself?”

Dick frowned. “Look, Nix...I know I messed up, alright? I should’ve told you. But...we hit it off in the beginning and next thing I knew, you were my best friend, and after I learned how you felt about supernatural beings, I just...I didn’t want to risk it.”

“So instead, you let me go on believing that you were just a human like me. Not some immortal being from another realm. Not….”

“Nix.” The single word stopped him as Dick took a step closer. “I’m still the same person. And you’re still….” The words fizzled out and he frowned again.

“What?” Nix pressed, feeling desperate. “I’m still what?”

“Forget it.” Dick huffed.

“Oh, no. I don’t think you have a right to do that,” Nix laughed. “You’re the one who withheld vital information all this time. And you’re the one who showed up at my house this morning. So I wanna know. I’m still what?”

“Damnit, Nix,” Dick growled, advancing on him, “You’re still the person I love most in the world.”

The words were a punch to the gut and Nix suddenly felt breathless, overwhelmed. He almost thought he’d keel over. They were the words he’d longed to hear for years now, the thing he’d been hoping and dreaming of. He was in love with Dick Winters, his best friend, and had been for as long as he’d known him. He’d prayed for the day when Dick might return his feelings. And now...well, now apparently he did, but it wasn’t the same, because Dick wasn’t human, Dick was Fae, and everyone knew the Fae couldn’t be trusted. Nix’s family had learned that the hard way.

“Then why didn’t you tell me the truth before, huh? Why did you make me find out this way?”

“It was a mistake Nix, I’ve already admitted that. But I’ll tell you the truth now. Anything you want to know.”

“Anything?” Nix asked.

Dick took a step forward, reaching out so that his fingers just barely brushed Nix’s shoulder, traced down along his arm, before dropping away. “Anything.”


	11. Haunted House Redux: The Boys as Actors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a medical scene, blood, gore, and the boys being creepy.

Every year, the guys of the Epsilon Theta Omega fraternity put on a Halloween haunted house to raise money for the local food bank. It was famous for being the scariest one in the city and each year, the line stretched from the door all the way down the street with people just waiting to get their yearly dose of thrills and chills. The guys never disappointed, and this year was no different. 

The facade of the old, dilapidated building gave a preview of the horror its willing victims were set to experience within. The shutters were lopsided, hanging by broken hinges which hadn’t been replaced. Dirt and spiderwebs trailed down the wood paneling. From within the broken, darkened windows, lights flashed sporadically and horrified screams poured out into the night, agitating those waiting in line.

Lipton marched nervously up and down the line of customers, sizing them up, talking to them to offer what comfort he could. He approached one large group of young men and women who were huddled close together and said “There’s nothing to worry about, folks. You look like a strong group. You’ll be okay.” He twisted his hands together. “Just remember to stick together. And, uh...don’t look them in the eye. Please. They hate that.” As their eyes widened, he moved his way down the line. Behind him, the lights flashed again, the horrific sound of a chainsaw shattered the night, and then a series of shrieks followed. Lipton stopped in front of a group and cast a glance back toward the house over his shoulder before he turned back to them, forcing a smile. “It’s okay,” he assured the three young men who stared at him, wide-eyed, “Everything’s alright. It’s not that bad.” Another chorus of shrieks echoed from the house followed by a maniacal laugh. Lipton smiled tightly and said “I’m sure that was nothing.” The young men shifted nervously on their feet. Lip had to fight to hide his grin.

As the group of customers gathered near the entrance, they were introduced to their spooky guide. A tall man whose face was painted a deathly white, dressed all in black but sporting copper hair, introduced himself as Dick. He met Lip’s eyes over their heads and fought back his own grin as he told them all solemnly, “If you will trust me, I will lead you through this slice of Hell and safely out the other side.” His presence was the only piece of comfort and hope offered to the customers and so they nodded, choosing to trust him to lead them through the maze-like hallways and terrifying rooms of the haunted house. As he led them through the creaky front door, the journey began.

Shortly after entering, someone at the back of the line sucked in a startled breath, noticing a man with a dark, blood-streaked face who stood, expressionless in a corner, holding a large knife. He cocked his head to the side slowly, meeting the patron’s eyes until the terrified man looked away. Pushing away from the wall, the man began to follow the group, quiet, staring. He disappeared into the shadows and then reappeared several more times. Waves of unease rolled off of the customers. Though they were thankful when he seemingly disappeared, they felt an even greater sense of anxiety wondering when he would show up next.

Muck, Penkala, and Malarkey were tasked with moving stealthily through the house without being seen and randomly shrieking from different locations, throwing themselves against false walls and rattling the paneling just when a group walked by. Each time, the people inside would jump, startled, and the people outside would shudder with anticipation.

The hallways were long and twisting, the floor uneven so that the customers never felt like they had full control over where they put their feet. Sudden breezes and hanging cobwebs kept their senses on high alert. Dick’s quiet confidence was the only thing keeping them from making a run for it. Outside the first big room, Dick stopped, turning back to the people. “Don’t look, if you can. And don’t answer him, no matter what.”

Before they stepped in, they heard the sound of a loud  _ chop,  _ like a large blade sinking deep into something and then a scream, followed by a loud moan. They entered to find a lanky redhead strapped to an operating table, covered in blood and gore, looking like he was being sawed in half. Above him stood a dark haired, dark-eyed man wearing a tattered doctor’s coat which was bloody up to the elbows. Blood spattered across his front and up his neck and pale face. He looked up from his grisly task as the people inched nervously into the room and then tried to press out of it twice as fast. He fixed his gaze on one girl. “Have ya seen my scalpel?” He asked her, beginning to move around the table. He reached out toward her, beckoning. “My bone saw?” He wiped his bloody hands on his pants. “It’s difficult work, this, but it needs to be done….” Just as he almost reached her, Dick led them through the door and shut it behind him. As soon as the patrons were gone, Gene grinned and turned back to where Babe lay, chuckling on the table. 

“You know, it’s creepy as hell when you do that,” Babe laughed.

Gene bent down to kiss him. “I know. That’s the point. Now come on, we gotta get ready for the next group.”

Just outside of the doctor’s room, they encountered a vampire with blood still dripping from his fangs and down his chin. He leaned against the upcoming doorway, as if waiting for them. “Hey there, Red,” he said, pushing away from the doorjamb and toward Dick. “Bring me some tasty little treats?”

“Nix,” Dick acknowledged, before he glanced over his shoulder at the poor souls following him. “He’s a vampire. Don’t look him in the eyes or he’ll charm you.”

“Flatterer,” Nix rumbled, leaning close. “Just leave me one or two. Or stay here with me, instead. I promise I’ll be a good boy.” He flicked his eyes up and down Dick’s body before turning his charming grin to the line of victims. “Don’t mind me,” he said, “I’m not the one you should look out for.” Suddenly, the guy at the end of the pack screamed and they realized the man with the knife was back--he’d found them again, joining the group without them ever noticing. 

Nix bared his fangs in a smirk as the people scurried away from him, reaching toward a few of them, inviting them to join him for a bloody good time. Ron snorted as he passed by and disappeared back into the shadows.

At one point, a panicked George Luz, dressed like a kid off the street, came racing into the hallway toward the rest of them, begging for help, but then they heard the hideous roar of the chainsaw and then suddenly a man twice his size stormed into the space and seemingly cut him down with it, before dragging him, screaming, back into the shadows. The group bunched closer together and Dick said “Don’t worry, we’re halfway there.”

At one point, the people felt as though something were playing with their hair, just brushing the tops of their heads. A few of them dared to glance up and found ghouls (Smokey, Tab, and Shifty) hanging, upside down from the ceiling, trailing their three-inch claws through their hair. Some of them screamed, others simply shrank out of reach. 

Another room was full of guys wearing chains and bloody clothes, dirty hockey masks and carrying clubs, knives, and scythes. The men (Liebgott, Toye, and Guarnere) pressed close, menacing the group as they bunched close together and pushed quickly out of the room.

The tour went on forever, seemingly, through twisting hallways and terrifying rooms, until finally the streetlights illuminated them once more and Dick bid them all a good night, glad that he hadn’t lost anyone this time.

Before he headed back to the front to do it all again, Nix would usually materialize behind him and nuzzle at his neck for a minute before kissing him and whispering “I’ll see you on the other side.”

And after the night was over, Ron, now dressed in his street clothes, would go to find Lip and would wrap his arms around him, perching his chin on his shoulder and say “You have way too much fun getting them nice and scared for us. You make my job too easy.”


	12. Liebgott, Webster, and Hunting a Monster

“You can’t just say a bunch of words that sound like Latin and expect to make magic,” Joe scoffed, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter.

Webster rolled his eyes, hard. “Yeah, Joe, I know that. That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Then what  _ are  _ you doing, exactly?”

“I’m speaking  _ actual  _ Latin that I  _ actually  _ understand, and I’m trying to fix the problem that  _ you  _ created.”

“Oh, no,” Joe started, his voice a humorless chuckle, “don’t go blaming this one on me. I just brought the problem to your attention. I didn’t cause it.”

Webster side-eyed the other man but managed to choke back a retort. “Just help me, alright? I don’t care whose fault it is. It doesn’t change the fact that we’ve got a monster on the loose and the spell to lock it up again is  _ apparently  _ somewhere in this shop.”

“So what are you gonna do?” Joe asked, pulling a book from the shelf of the magic shop he and Webster had managed to let themselves into. “Go through and chant all the likely spells until one of them works?”

A huff. “Do you have a better idea?”

Joe shrugged as he flipped through the pages. He didn’t know what he was looking for. Hell,  _ he  _ didn’t speak Latin. “We could always just, ya know...shoot it.”

“Right. And what if that doesn’t kill it?”

“Stab it.”

“Joe….”

“Light it on fire.”

“I swear to God….”

“Yeah, we can try that one too.”

Webster huffed, but he couldn’t stop the slight quirk of his lips. “Fine. You can try all of those things, if we come across it again. In the meantime, would you please help me find the right spell?”

“Yeah, yeah. Alright. What words should I be looking for?”

And so, by the light of their flashlights, they settled down to a long night of scouring through spellbooks in a shop they’d broken into with the intention of stopping a monster.


	13. Babe/Roe and a Costume

Babe gaped, torn between confused and offended as he stared at Gene. Now, those were not feelings Babe was used to having when he looked at Gene (love-struck, nervous, turned-on were more like it) but this was simply inexcusable and Babe couldn’t just stand by and let it happen. “Are you  _ really  _ just going to go to the party wearing a t-shirt that says ‘costume’ on it?”

Gene, oblivious to the six or seven Halloween rules he was currently breaking, looked down at himself and plucked at the black t-shirt. He frowned up at Babe. “What’s wrong with it?”

“What’s  _ wrong  _ with it?” Babe gasped, drawing back in shock. “You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me, Gene!  _ What’s wrong with it?  _ It’s lame, is what. Totally lame.”

Gene huffed. “Didn’t think it was all  _ that  _ bad.” His lips quirked up. “I thought it was sorta funny, actually.”

Babe whined and pressed his hands to his face. 

“Come on,” Gene said, pulling Babe’s hands away with a laugh. “You’ve gotta admit it’s funny.”

Babe looked at his smirking boyfriend, who was one of the most powerful witches alive, dressed in jeans and plain black t-shirt that simply said ‘costume’ and…. “Yeah, okay, it’s kinda funny,” Babe conceded. 

“See? Now come on,” Gene urged, grabbing his hand. “We don’t wanna be late.”


	14. Luztoye and Magic Shop

“Hey, look at this!” George said, picking up a wand and swishing it around. “Know any magic words?” He smirked at Joe.

Joe smirked back. “I know a lotta magic words, but probably not the kind you’re lookin’ for.”

“Oooh, gonna be like that, huh?” George grinned. “Fine. We’ll see how you feel later when I’m a sexy wizard.” George continued down the shelf, poking at crystals and a line of books. Behind him, he heard Joe suck in a breath.

“Oh my god, I think the crystal ball is working,” Joe said, cupping it in his hands and peering into its smokey depths, “the spirits are telling me you’re a dumbass.”

George rolled his eyes. “Haha, very funny. I don’t know why I put up with you.”

Now Joe’s eyes crinkled in fondness. “You put up with me because I put up with you. Now come on, let’s find what the Doc needs so we can get outta here.”


	15. Miller, Hashey, Garcia, and Late for a Party

“Come on, guys, we’re gonna be late to the party.” Hashey urged, waving his friends along the sidewalk.

“I still can’t believe Nixon invited us. I heard he  _ never  _ invites freshmen.” Garcia mused.

“That’s why we’ve got to  _ hurry up _ ,” Hashey insisted, “before he changes his mind or something.”

“I thought he lived around here,” Miller added as he hurried at the back of the trio. 

Garcia snorted. “Yeah, right. This neighborhood? Not a chance. We’ve still got a ways to go.”

“We should’ve just called a cab, like I suggested.” Hashey whined.

“I told you, I don’t get paid until next week.” Miller grumbled. Balancing classes and work was hard enough for a new college student, but add to that a minimum wage job? Life could be exhausting.

“So what are we gonna do, then, huh? We’re missing all the fun.” Hashey’s voice was becoming morose now--he’d been excited about this party since they’d gotten the invite three days ago.

“Follow me,” Garcia said, suddenly taking them on a detour. I know a shortcut.”

Miller and Hashey exchanged a glance but then shrugged and followed Garcia. They took a side street for about a quarter of a mile and then Garcia waved at the others, “Come on guys, follow me. Almost there.” He took a sharp left and suddenly the other two stopped in their tracks.

“You’ve  _ got  _ to be kidding me,” Miller said at the same time as Hashey snorted and said “Yeah, I’m not going through there.”

Garcia rolled his eyes. “Do you want to get to the party or not?”

“It’s dark out!” Hashey protested. “And Halloween! And you want us to take a shortcut  _ through a cemetery?! _ Are you out of your mind?”

“Come on, Hashey, don’t tell me you’re afraid.”

“Um...I am.” Miller said, holding up a hand. “I’ve seen this movie before. It doesn’t end well.”

Garcia rolled his eyes. “You two are a bunch of babies. It’ll be fine, you’ll see.” Then before they could protest again, he turned onto the pristine lawn and began his trek.

“Oh shit, he’s really doing it!” Miller said, panicking and taking a step forward before moving back again. “What should we do?”

“I’m not going in there!” Hashey protested.

“But he’s leaving us!” He twisted his hands together then glanced upward. “Oh, God, I can’t believe I’m doing this!” He hurried after Garcia, hissing “Hey Tony, wait up!” 

Hashey gulped and glanced around himself quickly--he now stood alone at the edge of the cemetery and the shadows of his friends were quickly growing smaller. “We’re gonna die in there, I know it,” he muttered to himself before scurrying quickly after his friends. “Nixon’s party better be worth it.”


	16. Baberoe and Late to the Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Gene! <3

“Come on, Gene, we’re gonna be late.” Babe huffed from the bedroom where he sprawled on the bed, arm thrown over his eyes.

“We ain’t gonna be late,” Gene murmured from the bathroom, staring in the mirror. “You know I always get us there early. And besides, some things are worth takin’ your time over.”

Babe pulled his arm away and quirked a brow. “Will you at least let me see what you’re doing in there?”

“Not yet,” Gene chided through the cracked door. “Be patient.”

Babe huffed, closing his eyes again. He supposed he could get up and try to creep over to the door without Gene noticing, peek in to where his boyfriend was finishing up his Halloween costume...but with his luck, Gene would catch him and then he’d frown all disapproving-like at Babe, and Babe  _ hated  _ to have that look directed at him. So instead, he’d wait patiently like Gene said, even if it drove him crazy. 

Gene had been tight-lipped about his costume since Babe had started harassing him about it nearly two weeks ago, simply saying that he had one and it looked just fine. Babe had spent his long hours at work trying to imagine what Gene might dress up as and getting distracted. Now the day was here and he was going to find out soon but the clock seemed to have slowed dramatically.

“You sure we’re not late?” Babe asked again, just to poke at Gene since it had gone quiet again. Nothing. No response. “Gene?” Babe sat up on the bed, brow furrowed in concern.

Suddenly, the bathroom door creaked open and Gene stepped out, his dark, glinting eyes smouldering at Babe from over his cape, where he had it pulled up to his chin. 

“Gene?” Babe gulped.

Gene stalked closer and Babe took in his whole appearance: dark boots and slacks, a crisp white shirt and vest, long black cape… Gene dropped his hold on the material as he drew close to the bed and he smirked at Babe, revealing pointed vampire teeth and a realistic looking trail of blood that dripped down to his chin. “Gene?”

“Edward,” Gene purred as he crawled onto the bed and straddled Babe where he sat, “I’m hungry, Edward.” Babe shuddered as Gene bent his face toward Babe’s neck and brushed his lips there. “Wanna drink you right up.” Babe felt the scrape of the fake vampire teeth and his eyes fluttered shut. His hands fisted at his sides and he gulped again. Gene’s breath was hot on his neck.

“Gene,” he gasped. “We, uh… we can be late for the party. I don’t care.”

“Mmm…” Gene hummed, tongue flicking out to lap at Babe’s neck in promise. “I was hopin’ you’d say that.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am still accepting prompts over on tumblr. And as always, comments are love so please let me know what you thought :)


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